Sunday Mornings
by gnbrules
Summary: But as long as Myka's not here, as long as you have Nate and Adelaide and pancake breakfasts every Sunday morning, you can believe that you belong here, that you want this life. Reflection on episode 4x15, Instinct.


**Sunday Mornings **

**Summary: But as long as Myka's not here, as long as you have Nate and Adelaide and pancake breakfasts every Sunday morning, you can believe that you belong here, that you want this life. Reflection on episode 4x15, Instinct.**

When it comes down to it, pretending is easy when you're away from the Warehouse. It's easy when not every moment is a step from chaos and death and devastation. And it's easy when you're not near Myka Bering.

No, that's not quite it. It's not easy to be _away _from Myka, because heaven knows you've lived with a constant ache in your chest for all these months you've been apart. It's an emptiness that expands with every day of not seeing her, being near her, hearing her voice, seeing her smile.

But as long as she's not _here,_ as long as you have Nate and Adelaide and pancake breakfasts every Sunday morning, you can believe that you belong, that you in fact crave the domestic and the plain. It's time for different, it's time for simple, safe. It's time to stop breaking Myka and breaking yourself, because the Warehouse is bad for you. You and it are a combustible combination, a powder keg, and you will not let Myka burn with you. Not now, not ever.

So it's plain pancakes for Nate, Adelaide takes chocolate chip, and your own have a dusting of cinnamon. And you kiss Nate's cheek, his lips, and you cherish the feeling of Adelaide's slender arms around you when she hugs. It is enough, and you think maybe you can stay here, maybe this can be real for you too.

But then there's a curiosity at work, the transformation of a suspect. A dangerous curiosity for sure, and _they_ will know soon with their vigilant ping-watching. But soon may not be soon enough, and you know the right thing to do is to tell them before anyone gets hurt.

Even so, you hesitate. You hesitate because you know, _you_ _know, _that bringing Myka here into your stable life is sure to upset everything you've been trying so hard to cling to, everything you've tried so hard to convince yourself you want.

Your fingers tingle as you press the digits on the phone, the ones you've memorized by heart without ever trying. And then Myka's voice is in your ear, saying your name with shock and softness, your real name – not H.G. but _Helena._

It's the first strike against the wall you've built against her, and it leaves a steady crack of doubt, and the ache increases tenfold. You're not sure how you'll manage to handle seeing Myka if just her voice has you ready to run back to an old, dangerous lifestyle and abandon the good one you have now. But you have to try.

For Nate, for Adelaide, for your own sanity.

And all too soon, you're being tested. Myka is there, before you, and there is a case at hand but all you can see is the wild spark in Myka's eyes. It is asking _why _and _how _and there's anger and confusion, but mostly you see a dancing hope. Because the two of you are here, together, and in her view, there should be nothing left to keep you apart. No evil or crazy, no regent prison, no death, no mission to keep an old astrolabe safe. There is hope in Myka's eyes, and you hate yourself more than you ever have.

And then later, Myka comes knocking at your door and Nate and Adelaide are just inside, and every fiber of your soul is screaming, _no, this isn't how it should be. _You didn't want to see her face shatter and to know you're the cause. You just want to pretend, but it's not easy anymore, when Myka is here and the air is charged between you.

In fact, it's the hardest thing you've ever done.

You try to explain yourself, that you're making a life here, an uncomplicated stable life, with companionship and family and – and every word is an apology.

She asks if they know who you are, who you really are, and you want to say that only she knows who you really are. But you laugh and joke about being the famed H.G. Wells, and it's bittersweet because you both know that this is how it should be - laughing between the hard moments, taking joy in each other whenever you can.

This is the second strike against your wall. The crack widens and you try to seal it but to no avail. This is what love feels like, and it stands in sharp contrast to what you have with Nate. You care about him and you're trying, you really are. But when you know love, when you know it for real, all else rings out as cheap imitation.

And then Officer Curtis won't let you in to investigate, and you create an excuse he'll enjoy. It's a means to an end, sure, but it excites you with the honesty of it. Because you are trying to impress a girl, your girl, your Myka, and the smile you get in return is enough. You've never been close to defining this connection, to saying it, to having it be heard and it just sounds _nice _to finally have it _out _in the universe and almost tangible.

For the life of you, you can't remember why you've fought it for so long. And even now, you're still fighting though your heart isn't in the struggle, and you're probably in a losing battle.

It isn't til later, after Nate's been attacked and the whole lie of Emily Lake is about to blow up in your face, that Myka finally says what she wants to say, what she's been meaning to say all this time. If it didn't hurt so much, you'd be quite proud of her.

_You're chasing ghosts, _she tells you.

It stings you, bruises you with hard memories, and your defenses are wild. You can't think of Christina now, can't stand to have Adelaide compared to her, can't stand to think you're using them all to fill the holes left in your own heart. You lash out at Myka because your wall is shattering and the world's about to flood in tears and possibilities of things that cannot be.

And when Adelaide is taken and Myka is gone, every real, true thing you have ever known is in danger. And so you reign in the two sides of yourself, Emily and Helena. Emily, the forensic scientist who can gather the clues, Helena the fighter, the Warehouse agent.

Once Adelaide is rescued and blessedly unhurt, for a long, long while everything feels okay again. You need this little girl and her father, and they've welcomed you home. They will still welcome you, and your heart feels settled.

But then you remember that though the case is done, it's the hard part left, the part you've been dreading. Instead of being inside the house with the family you've made, you're outside with fellow agents, dragging out the time before the inevitable. Spending the last few minutes with Pete and Myka. With Myka.

What Pete says doesn't surprise you. He is much like Nate in some respects, with his heart pure and honest and he just needs to believe that there's more for him someday than evil, insanity, or death. He uses you as a dream to follow, and you allow the fantasy. Part of you wants to tell him that the Warehouse, and the people in it, they never really let you go. But maybe Pete can be the one to prove you wrong in time, and you won't hurt his chances with cynicism. Just because your life outside the Warehouse feels so hollow and false, it doesn't mean his will be.

And then Pete gets in the car and leaves you and Myka alone, and there are tears now. There's always been a heart-wrenching poetry in your goodbyes, and it just seems so incredibly sad that every chapter of your story together ends this way.

_You'll never lose this friend, _you tell her, and what you mean is _I love you. _But love is also about protecting people from your own brokenness, and you will not bring it upon Myka again. And you will not let the Warehouse tear you apart. At least this way, it's on your own terms and Myka, God bless her beautiful soul, will be as brave and strong as she always has been. Her heart will heal, though yours never will.

That's okay. You tell yourself that's okay.

And you hug her and the world is right for the first time in months. For that wonderful moment spent in Myka's arms, the ache no longer exists; you are fulfilled, completed, unbroken. The pull towards Myka is so strong, it has to be gravity, and you let your hand linger on Myka's back for longer than you have any right to. You hope, wish, and pray that this can be enough to last a lifetime.

And then she's gone, with a teary-smile in a car driving off into the darkness and towards the endless wonder you've abandoned.

You watch until long after the car disappears, then head inside though you'd rather be anywhere else entirely, if only you could be with her. Adelaide is still showing off her Kempo and Nate is still cheering her on. He smiles as you enter, and you think about how Myka told you to make this your home.

You have to try.

That night, after you've finally put Adelaide to bed, you and Nate retreat to your own as well. The silence is heavy as you slip between the sheets, but then he breaks it.

"You can tell me when you're ready," Nate says and kisses your forehead, and it is so impossibly sweet of him. He shouldn't be as understanding as he is; your former life nearly killed both him and his daughter, and yet there are already the tell-tale signs of forgiveness forming.

You've never loved him more than you do right now, though even this much still pales in comparison.

The bed is cold and you offer a small thank you and kiss in response before turning your back to him. It takes an hour for his breathing to finally fall into the steady rhythms of sleep, and it's only then that you let the tears come and soak into the fabric of your pillow. The ache in your chest is back and nearly crippling, and even making it through the night here is a chore.

The next morning, you awake to the realization that it's Sunday, and sure enough, you all have breakfast together like a family. But the pancakes are tasteless now, and you know that pretending they aren't will never be so easy again.


End file.
